The night, the blanket that conceals imperfect things.
With your darkness you permit acts impermissible during the day.
You transform people and liberate.
When the sunlight becomes too blinding,
We wait for you to arrive so we may hide.
Hide things we can't reveal.
When we lack the courage to show,
The night, our night, what gift you are to us.
Your fools, hopeless, cowards and bastards.